Into Eternity
by crescendohh
Summary: "But it doesn't have to be lonely this time," Hashirama continues in a hoarse whisper. "This time we can go together." Hashirama/Madara


**Notes: **This was written for the HashiMada holiday swap as a gift for tumblr user senju-swag. Her prompt was edo tensei release and I hope I did it justice. Also thinking about these two makes me very sad so I'm going to curl up on my bed and watch more Breaking Bad now.

...

**Into Eternity**

...

"It's finally over," Tobirama says as he places a hand on his older brother's shoulder and squeezes gently.

Hashirama turns his head from the chaos in front of him to lock eyes with his brother. The time for lightheartedness has long passed and there is no mirth in Hashirama's eyes. No words are spoken between them, but Tobirama knows. He doesn't quite understand, but he knows this is what his brother needs. After a lifetime and then some of witnessing the effects of Uchiha Madara on his brother, he knows. Tobirama nods curtly, though his hand lingers on Hashirama's shoulder a little longer than necessary. Squeezes a little too tightly. Tobirama has never been one for unnecessary displays of emotion, but this is his final goodbye after all.

Hashirama is the one to break eye contact, returning his gaze to the battlefield. He lifts his hand to the one Tobirama still has placed on his shoulder and gently removes it.

"Thank you, Tobirama," he says, his voice soft though distant, his mind not focused on the here and now but elsewhere. Hashirama releases his younger brother's hand and leaves him behind as he begins walking toward a large crater in the center of the ruined landscape as though it's drawing him forward.

Tobirama watches his brother for a few moments before he lets out a sigh and looks up at the brightening sky. The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon and a new dawn is upon them.

…

All around him is chaos and confusion. The battle is over, the war is won, but it is a world without order. There is a mix of celebration of the victory and mourning of the dead. Members of the shinobi alliance are running to and fro, reuniting with friends, grieving over the bodies of their fallen comrades, utterly confused as to what comes next.

There aren't enough medic nins to attend to the injured. He sees his granddaughter, Tsunade, and her two protégés attempting to organize the efforts. All three are yelling orders to the rest of their division and scrambling to get to the aid of the shinobi with the most pressing injuries.

And, perhaps, he should help. And, perhaps, he would have while he was truly living, but he is long dead now and it is high time that he focuses on what _he_wants and what _he_ needs.

Vaguely, he recognizes Sasuke and Naruto huddled together off to the side, talking to each other - bickering, probably - in hushed tones. Nearby, he sees the Yondaime Hokage and his white-haired student gently lifting the body of Uchiha Obito.

Hashirama pays them all little more than a passing thought as he approaches the edge of the crater. He experiences a rare moment of hesitation before he steps down into it.

…

Madara lies in the center of the crater, bloody and broken. His breaths come in short gasps. And Hashirama takes a moment to look down at him because while he has seen Madara near death before, he has never seen his old friend truly defeated.

With great effort, Madara turns his head to meet Hashirama's gaze. His eyes are unfocused and his hair is sticking to his face, matted with blood, but it's obvious that he knows who has come to him. Who else would?

"H…Hashirama." Madara's voice is raspy and weak.

Hashirama kneels down beside him. He carefully brushes aside Madara's hair and wipes away a trail of blood that is leading from his mouth. He leans in close - close enough that he can feel Madara's shallow breaths fan across his face - and caresses a gaunt cheek. Hashirama closes his eyes and places his forehead against Madara's, his hand now moving to run through the Uchiha's hair.

"It's lonely, isn't it?" he whispers.

…  
…

He lay sprawled on his back on top of their mountain watching as the clouds traced lazily across the sky just above the tree line. A light breeze ruffled his hair every now and then, cool and refreshing in the summer heat. He was still flushed and sweaty from training just minutes earlier.

Hashirama enjoyed leisure time. He didn't get it often. He liked to spend this time doing nothing more complicated than observing his surroundings. He'd always had an affinity for nature. He liked to find a good spot in the woods and sit and watch all the plant life and animals. He found it fascinating. And here, he was doing the same now. He watched the trees as their leaves swayed in the breeze, the ants as they filed along in a line a few inches away from his left knee, a flock of crows as they were rustled from a tree and flew overhead. He breathed in the humid summer air and felt at peace.

"Do you think it's lonely?"

He turned his head to the right to contemplate his friend. Madara was sitting cross-legged not two feet away from him. Madara, too, was looking out over the tree line, but he didn't seem to be watching the clouds. His eyebrows were drawn together in concentration. His thoughts apparently focused on something much more complex.

"Hm?" Hashirama prompted, hoping for Madara to elaborate.

"Never mind." He shook his head as if coming out of a daze. "Forget it."

Hashirama, always eager to hear Madara's thoughts, sat up and scooted closer, placing an arm around his friend's shoulders and leaning his head so that their foreheads were almost touching.

"No, no! Tell me!"

Madara seemed to scoff a bit at Hashirama's overly affectionate gestures, but did nothing to distance himself.

"Dying," Madara said simply.

Hashirama blinked.

"Dying," he parroted back slowly, not quite understanding what Madara meant.

Madara sighed. He threw Hashirama's arm off his shoulder and stood up.

"Yes, dying. Don't you think it's lonely?"

Still sitting, Hashirama looked up at his friend. Madara wasn't looking back at him. He was still looking out over the trees (but not quite seeing them).

"I was thinking about how you said your younger brother died," Madara said before Hashirama had time to formulate his answer. "And then my brothers as well. They were all alone. No one was there for them in their last moments. Just their enemies."

Madara shuffled his feet in the dirt, put his hands on his hips, and continued:

"And then they're just…gone. It has to be lonely, don't you think?"

Hashirama lowered his eyes and fiddled with a patch of grass by his side.

"Yeah, I guess it is."

…  
…

Madara lifts his gloved hand to Hashirama's face, his thumb ghosting over cracked lips. He remembers that conversation from a lifetime ago.

"But it doesn't have to be lonely this time," Hashirama continues in a hoarse whisper.

His hand moves from Madara's hair to clutch the gloved one on his face. He threads their fingers together and brings them down so that they rest between their chests. With his other hand, he begins a series of seals and channels his chakra.

A soft light surrounds him. His edo tensei body begins to crack and flake away.

"This time we can be together," he says, his smile sad but hopeful.

Hashirama feels Madara squeeze his hand tightly and he squeezes back. Foreheads still touching, they keep their eyes locked on to each other. Madara releases one last shuddering breath. And they know no more.


End file.
